Mark opened his eyes and gazed blearily around the strange room, trying to remember what had happened. He had met a boy named Richard...no, the boy had been called Rick. They had gone to look at Blue Boy...Mark's head cleared and he sat up. Two men had grabbed him and Rick had tried to stop them. What happened after that was a blank. Mark turned his head back and forth, wincing at the pain. They must have knocked him out.

Mark tried to get up and gasped as he realized he was tied to a chair. "Help!" he shouted. "Pa!"

"No sense in yelling out here," said a deep voice. "Ain't no one to hear you for miles." A scruffy man bent down in front of the boy, grinning. "I was gettin' a mite worried about you. Thought Jack mighta thumped you on the head too hard."

A second man came over. "I know'd what I was doing, Remy. I only hit him hard enough to settle him down." He grinned at Mark. "Now you just stay calm, fancy pants, and we'll get you back safe and sound to yore daddy soon enough."

"Fancy pants?" Mark looked down at himself and remembered exchanging clothes with Rick. He started to speak, then the men's horses snorted.

"Somebody coming, Jack. Better go see." Remy took a filthy rag out of his pocket. "Do I got to gag you?"

Mark swallowed hard and shook his head. A moment later Jack returned dragging a boy. It was Rick! Jack threw him down, hard, and Rick grunted with the pain of it.

"Remy, I caught this young'un sneakin' around. You want me to get rid of him?"

"You better not!" Mark thought fast. "His pa is Lucas McCain."

Remy shrugged. "Never heard of him."

"You heard of the rifleman?" asked Mark. There was an uncomfortable silence while the two men exchanged glances. "That's Mark McCain, the rifleman's son. He'll kill you dead if you hurt his boy." Mark's eyes locked with Rick's. "Ain't that what you were telling me?"

Rick sat up. "Oh, yes, my father has a very fierce temper."

"I remember you telling me how he tracked down some Indians that kidnapped you," prompted Mark.

"Yes!" said Rick. He glared at Jack and Remy. "My father killed them all with his bare hands and scalped them and tied the hair to his riding crop!"

Mark rolled his eyes but the outlandish story had an effect. "Just tie him up, Jack," said Remy nervously. "When we get the money for fancy pants, we'll throw this one in too for no charge."

Jack pulled up a chair and tied Rick next to Mark. "Now you two just settle down. Remy's going to town to meet with your daddy and I don't want no trouble."

"His father's not in town," said Rick.

"He ain't? Didn't you give him that note telling him to wait in the saloon?"

"I gave it to him but he said he had to go raise the money. That little bank in North Fork doesn't have the funds to cover a transaction like that." Rick smiled at Mark. "Don't worry. Your father will be back tomorrow."

"Well…" Remy frowned. "Guess we'll just have to wait a extra day. Jack, best put on a pot of coffee."